The Oracle
by FannyT
Summary: No one has ever accused Luna of not being honest. Brutal and bloody creepy are words often used about her however, and not in conjunction with isn't. Still, her advice might just be the best Harry can get.


Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, except for Alexander Snidget.

_Spoilers up to and including book six... _

The Oracle

Luna opened her front door after enduring the persistent knocking on it for about ten minutes. She was not entirely surprised to find Harry outside, looking as if the world was about to fall apart around his ears.

"Kill me," he said. "Right now, please."

"No." Luna didn't even reflect over it. "It's impossible to get blood out of these clothes by hand. And I can't afford Gladrags' laundry service – plus they're closed since four months back, did you know? I wonder if it's those bloody Death Eaters or just bankruptcy... of course, I don't see what Voldemort's little helpers would have against laundry... Well, come on in and stop standing there like a stupid person, then you can talk over whatever made you want to hire an assassin. Or you can do the deed yourself – but I guess you're a little bit squeamish about suicide. Shut the door behind you, I can't be having drafts now."

She left him standing in the doorway and made her way back to her work, certain that he could make up his mind on his own and that he was equally capable of finding his way to her laboratory. Putting a pair of dragonskin gloves on she grabbed her tongs and was just about to lift the lid on one of the quietly hissing cauldrons, standing in a neat row on one of the long tables, when Harry entered.

"Luna..."

"This experiment is extremely sensitive. Shut the door, and your mouth, for the next couple of minutes. And put the water on." She nodded towards a table by the window, which held a small bowl of cooking fire, a tiny cauldron and several mismatched mugs stacked in tottering, unwashed towers. "There's instant coffee in the brown jar, take a cup if you want, make one with four spoons of coffee in it for me. Silently."

She didn't look to see if he did as she asked, but gripped the lid of the cauldron and slowly eased it off. The liquid inside was a milky white – good. Taking her wand from her pocket she summoned a jar from the other table, not willing to take her eyes off the mixture even for the short time it would take to walk there and back. With the ease of someone who does it for a living she measured out four tablespoons of the glittering powder inside and added it to the potion. She watched it in apprehension, only vaguely aware of the muffled clatter in the other end of the room, and quietly breathed out as she saw that the potion was slowly starting to clear. As carefully as she had removed it she replaced the lid, hung the tongs in their place and pulled off the heavy dragonskin gloves. Then she made a beeline for the coffee.

"Luna," said Harry, after watching her almost disappear down into the large mug, "are you aware that you are an addict?"

"It's been over an hour since my last cup. Allow me to restore the fine-tuned balance between caffeine and blood in my veins." She took another large gulp. "I can stop anytime I want to," she added, unconvincingly.

"Sometimes you frighten me." Harry had somehow managed to scrounge up a relatively clean mug – meaning there was nothing growing on the inside of the rim – and was spooning coffee into it as he shook his head over her sad life style.

"Do you still want to die?" asked Luna.

"I think I'll wait, thanks."

"Then I suggest you do not put four spoons of that coffee into your mug. In fact, I suggest you do not even put one spoon into your mug. I recommend putting in a pinch, filling it up with water and adding lots of milk. This is heavy stuff. It can take beginners quite hard."

"I never realised coffee drinking was such a complex science."

"You grow into it," said Luna complacently. "So why did you want to kill yourself earlier today?"

"Oh god." Harry's expression of dread, for a while forgotten, returned with renewed vigour. "I'm so stupid... I don't know if you've noticed, but Hermione's been acting kind of distant for the last two weeks or so, while Ron was off in Egypt. I mean, I didn't think much of it – pretty natural, really. Then he came home three days ago and the first time I saw Hermione after that, today, she was looking as if she'd been run over by the Hogwarts Express. Of course, we all teased her, telling her how tired she looked and asking her if she hadn't had her coffee yet, you know the way you act. And then while we were talking something over a bit later, just her and me, I said, really insinuating, 'I'm guessing it was happy reunion, then?' And I think I might have leered, too."

"And she replied?" asked Luna, looking as if she already knew the answer and was bored with the conversation.

"'We broke up last night'."

"Really."

"And I mean, I really should have known! That's what's getting me down. I shouldn't have to find out like that, I should have known how things were! And either or both should have called me to talk it over!" He sighed, rubbed his hand across his eyes. "I guess I just haven't been really there, lately, or something. I feel like such an oblivious jerk..."

"Harry," said Luna, and she could have said this gently but that would have made it sound less true so she didn't. "You're the personification of oblivious jerk."

Harry removed his hand from his eyes. "Sorry?"

"I remember," said Luna dreamily, "I was so in love with you at school... We used to talk, at least in the beginning – remember? I felt like we understood each other pretty well, too. I know I told you things I haven't told many others. And then you repaid me by getting with a pretty little redhead instead. Don't get me wrong," for Harry had opened his mouth in defence, "I like Ginny, and always have. But she isn't what I thought you were after in a relationship, and it irked me that you hadn't even shown me that much. And you did give me the impression that you liked me, at least a little, and that was annoying too. Especially when I realised you probably hadn't guessed at all."

"Luna, I'm sorry..."

"Oh, I couldn't care less. Harry, I'm twenty-three. I don't care about you snubbing me when I was fifteen. Besides, I'm very happy with Snitch."

"Do you know how weird it is that you actually call him that?" asked Harry, shaking his head.

"It's a rather obvious nickname, I would have thought."

"Yes... but him... he's so... not nicknamey. I'm sure no one called him anything but Snidget or even Mr Snidget when we were at school..."

Alexander Snidget was a former Ravenclaw currently employed in the Department of International Magical Co-operation, who had been Head Boy during Harry's first year of Hogwarts. Harry had found him a stern and serious seventeen-year-old back in the day (of course, to a tiny First Year just arrived at Hogwarts everyone above the age of fourteen was huge and scary) and had never come to terms with the name Luna called him by.

"For that matter, you're not very nicknamey either," said Harry.

"No. To return to the _us_ that was never to be..." Luna said pointedly, deciding to veer back on track after his interruption. He did interrupt people often; quite rude, that. "I don't think we would have made a good couple, anyway, you and I. I need someone a little more on my level."

"Your honesty is refreshing but creepy," said Harry, sulkily.

"My point with this whole _baring my fifteen-year-old soul_-digression was – this might not have been made entirely clear – to point out that yes, Harry, you do often give off the impression of being blind, deaf and completely bloody stupid. But don't let it get you down. You're not alone in this. And Ronald's managed his love life fine despite a similar mountain troll syndrome."

"She threw a flowerpot at him."

"Up until now, that is. I have to say, Hermione seems to have a bit more going on behind that hair than I ever gave her credit for."

"You never heard of her slapping Malfoy in our third year? He was skittish around her for weeks."

"Slapping Draco Malfoy isn't that big of a deal, is it? I'd have said the difficulty was to _keep_ from slapping him. Hm?"

"Well, yes."

"Anyway," Luna continued, "you _should_ indeed have known about how things were with them. I'm very sorry, but Horcrux hunting is in this case not a valid excuse. It's not as if it's sudden. Of course, they've always had their ups and downs – they're Hermironnie," (Harry reflected briefly over how absurd the couple's silly nickname sounded in Luna's mouth, especially when said with such a deadly serious face), "but lately the downs have been getting longer and more frequent, so to speak. Their relationship has been very unstable for at least four months now."

"Four MONTHS?"

"You really haven't suspected at all?" Luna frowned. "Shame on you."

"But..." Harry floundered. "But Hermione and Ron have _always_ been together! They've been in love since they were fourteen! Everyone always said they'd be together for ever!"

"I know, Harry," said Luna, yawning. "He said that, too. Ronald. He's sort of grown up loving her. Eventually, it became part of his nature. He's having a hard time letting go. But Hermione has changed very much since our school days. Ronald couldn't keep up with that change, and she began to grow annoyed with him. And once you start, that feeling of annoyance tends to grow until you can barely stand being near him, because every time he says that certain word in that certain way, or makes that certain grimace you hate, you feel like screaming. Well actually, you feel like murdering him (to be quite honest) but that is after all a criminal offence and most people don't take it that far." Luna paused, sipped her coffee calmly, appeared not to notice how Harry was staring at her. "Also, Hermione felt trapped. It's always thus, I guess – that one loves more than the other. In their case, it was Ronald."

"You seem to know a lot about this," muttered Harry, accusingly.

"Well, I've been playing counsellor for Ronald for the last half year or so," snorted Luna. "One tends to pick up a thing or two."

"_You_ have?" Harry's tone was incredulous.

"Yes," replied Luna coolly, making him blush. "We're _friends_. Savour the word. Friends listen to each other's troubles. Friends share advice and try to help. When they're around long enough."

The colour rose in Harry's face again; this time from anger. "I don't have to sit here and be lectured – "

"Yes, you do!" Luna interrupted him. "You've been ignoring them both for ages, especially Ronald! He's tried to talk to you, and you've just sat there pretending to listen while your mind was off hunting for Voldemort. This war is tearing us all down and you have it hard, I know, but you weren't there when he needed you. Neither were you there for Hermione. They're your oldest friends, Harry! You need to treasure them! Otherwise you'll lose them, and when you're in trouble they won't come through for you." She paused and appeared to calm herself, then spoke on in a softer tone. "I know it's tough, this long search to finish off his soul. But you're not the only one having a hard time. We're all fighting a war here. We just fight on different fronts."

Harry was silent, looking out the window. "Did he call you?" he asked finally, quietly.

Luna never wrapped things up in pretty words. "Yes," she said. "Because he knew I wouldn't mind being woken at two a.m. by a head in my fire, and he knew he'd be able to come over and talk to me. He didn't know the same about you."

Harry dashed his cup to the floor.

There was silence for a while.

"That cup was my favourite, you know," said Luna.

Harry blinked, looked up at her and then down at the smashed cup. "Ah!" he shouted, leaping to his feet. "Luna, I'm sorry – wait, I'll – "

"Don't touch it," commanded Luna, picking up her wand and summoning the shards into her hand. "You suck at these kind of spells. _Reparo._" The cup quickly healed itself, leaving only a chink in the rim. "One of the shards must have stuck in the floor. Oh well, nothing to be done... And you never even tasted the coffee, either. Sit down. You look ridiculous."

Harry sat down. Propped his elbows against his knees and rested his head against his knuckles. Smiled a rueful smile. "I really should come see you more often. You can bring me down to earth like nobody else. I need to hear these things, don't I? I don't know what I would do without you."

"Grow up?" suggested Luna, raising her eyebrows. "Learn to tell yourself, instead of wasting my precious research time."

"Harsh again. I'm sorry."

"Time for my break anyway," shrugged Luna, which was not strictly true and therefore a very nice thing (for her) to say. "Quit apologising every half minute. It doesn't suit you."

"What are you working with now?" Harry nodded towards the cauldrons. It was a very obvious call to change the subject, but Luna accepted it (mainly because he had just invited her to talk about her research – a rare thing for anyone to do).

"Right now, I'm researching stealth potions for the Ministry. I'm mainly refining invisibility potions and trying to get rid of some of the more uncontrollable side effects, making them safer to use for espionage, but I'm also experimenting with substantiality. You see, imagine if you were able to be not only impossible to see, but impossible to touch as well – it'd be the start of a whole new phase in stealth potions. I'm really starting to get somewhere, too. The trick is using HinkyPunk hide, and although I'm not nearly finished pinpointing the exact dosage, I'm far on the way. You could just tell me when I'm starting to bore you."

Harry, who had been stifling a yawn behind his hand, jumped guiltily.

"Oh... er, sorry..."

"What did I say about the apologising?" Luna reached out for the jar of coffee and flicked her wand to levitate the cauldron of water onto the cooking fire again. "You know you're not supposed to be here, really. Why don't you just go and see her?"

"I guess I should," Harry replied hesitantly.

"And Ronald, too."

"Yes..."

"Are you aware that in the past, you would have thought of Ronald first and Hermione second?"

Harry flushed. "Are you saying there's something wrong with – "

"Not at all." Luna looked thoughtfully at her cup, and then added an extra spoonful of coffee. "I'm just concerned that what with you having the emotional insight of a kettle, you might not have realised this fact. I was thinking I might have to explain to you what it meant. How you and Ronald have grown apart, at the same time as you've been growing closer to Hermione. There's nothing wrong with this," (Harry had scowled angrily again), "it's something that happens. Would you pour me some water, please?"

Harry was still looking rather flustered. "There's nothing wrong with –"

"I know. That's what I said, I believe."

"Besides, it's natural to think of Hermione first at a time like this..."

"Of course it is." Luna rolled her eyes.

"She has no one with her to talk – "

"Actually, I think you'll find that she does. Viktor Krum was there when I talked with her."

"What?" Harry stared at her. "So are you Hermione's confidante as well now?"

"No," said Luna patiently, "that would be Viktor. I merely stuck my head in for a minute to ask her what sort of excuse she had for throwing flower pots at Ronald, and who should look me in the face but Mr Hawk-Nose himself. No, not Snape," she added, seeing that Harry was looking astonished. He scowled.

"That's not what I meant! I mean – it's just – but, but Krum lives in _Bulgaria_!"

"He's here for two months doing work for his Ministry, apparently. But even if he hadn't been, I wouldn't have been surprised to hear he'd come if she asked him to." Luna sipped her coffee and then looked up at him over the rim of her cup, somewhat slyly. "People do strange things when they're in love."

"In love? What, you mean... what, in _love_?"

"Don't tell me you've missed that, too."

"But..." Harry floundered. "Not still... that was ages ago! We were just kids!"

"_You_ were just kids, yes. Viktor was eighteen years old, old enough to fall in love. Of course it was silly, falling so completely for a girl four years his junior – but you know how it is, in wartime... all your feelings become so much stronger, and you long for love as a means to forget about what is happening around you. People see each other in a whole new light, and everything happens suddenly."

She didn't add "Like you and Ginny". Luna was honest, but she wasn't cruel.

"But the war hadn't even..." Harry tried.

"It hadn't started for _us_," Luna interrupted, finishing his sentence for him. "It had for them. Karkaroff had felt the call of Voldemort for months before they came to us, and subfactions of the Death Eaters had already begun stirring. They knew he was returning long before we did. The Bulgarians have had an even longer war than we've had. You would hardly think it was possible, would you?"

She sighed, gripping her cup tightly. The war had dragged on and on and on, sucking the will to fight out of everyone. Voldemort had fled, hiding himself god knew where, and his Death Eaters moved rarely and very cautiously. Still, it was war – there was no doubt about that. The giants were wrecking havoc in southern Scotland, among muggles as well as wizards, and pro-muggle Ministry officials were disappearing one after the other. But it was a boring war; a long, drawn-out, tired battle.

"Nah." Harry sighed as well, biting his lip.

"So how is Ginny, these days?"

"Fine. We've managed to settle everything quite well. She'll be moving into her new apartment next week." He paused, and added somewhat sourly, "But you know all of this through Ron, I expect."

"I do," Luna replied calmly, "but he can't tell me how you feel about it."

"How I feel?" Harry laughed. "Luna, I never thought I'd find you being so cliché. But yeah... I guess I feel relieved, mostly. I could see it coming since a long time back. It just hasn't been working, lately."

Harry's and Ginny's relationship had survived longer than Luna had thought possible. They would probably have managed quite fine, if the war had turned out the way they all expected. If Harry had gone off into danger, only returning for short visits to kiss her brave, resolute face and draw strength from her bright courage (Luna had quite a poetic mind at times)... They were made for action, both of them. This long war had killed their love, eaten it from within and turned it into something grey and dreary. To stand it, you needed someone you could share not only danger with, but every new day that dawned same as the last.

Ronald and Hermione had that, Luna thought. And since they'd spent just about every day with each other since the age of eleven, they hadn't had the shock of suddenly finding out all of each other's faults (like Harry and Ginny, to pick an example at complete random). But still, it hadn't worked out in the end. And despite her calm approach to it, Luna was disquieted. Because if such a steady couple could split, what was there to say that others wouldn't, as well? How safe did she feel, with Snitch?

"I think it was especially bad since it was so sunny," she said, thoughtfully.

"Sun – what?" Harry gave her the stare again. He'd been staring a lot since he came. Luna wondered if someone had been sneaking Perplexing Potion into his pumpkin juice.

"I was thinking about Ronald and Hermione, again," she explained. "It was such a lovely day yesterday. Somehow that makes it worse, don't you think? At the very least it should have been raining; although ominous, crashing thunder and howling winds wouldn't have been out of place either."

"You have such an interesting mind."

"Uh-uh, too late. You should have realised back in school, then we might have had something. Now, I'm _really_ not interested."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I forgot. In Ravenclaw-language that's a pick-up line. In normal people-language, Luna, it means _you're strange, and a little bit scary_."

"I love it when you're honest with me. Now shoo." Luna stood up, drained her (second) cup of coffee and placed it on top of the mug tower that looked least likely of crashing. Harry stood as well, looking confused.

"What..."

"I have experiments to do and you want to be with Hermione. Now go talk to her, preferably before she realises what a very kind man Viktor is, not to mention he's a hunk, and decides to run off to Bulgaria. Not that I'd mind terribly," she added honestly, "but I know Ronald would be upset and I'm sure you'd be all mopy, as well. Plus she's borrowed three of my reference books and I want them back."

"But..."

"Remember the friends thing I talked about before? It might be nice to try it in practise. I'm guessing she needs to talk, and you can go listen. I think she'd be happy if you came."

Harry shut his mouth on another "but", and smiled. "Thank you, Luna," he said. "It's good to talk to you."

"_Normal people_ would listen to the voice in their head, you know. It usually has some good advice."

"I can't seem to hear mine."

"My god, that must mean you're completely sane. How dreadful. Get out, get out, it might be contagious."

Harry laughed. "I think you're immune, Luna. Thank you again. Oh, and good luck with your experiments."

"Shut the door on your way out."

Harry laughed again, and lifted the water cauldron off the fire before making for the door. He stopped there for a second, looking as if he was about to say something, but then he apparently changed his mind for he left, and carefully closed the door.

Luna walked over to the eastern wall, which was covered with long shelves packed with jars, boxes and the occasional cage. She quickly found the two jars she wanted, and halted with them in her arms, looking out the window. Harry had just picked up his broom from where he'd left it by her gate, and was preparing to lift off. He looked rather happy – resolved.

"Such a child," Luna told the jar of Diricawl feathers. "Really, he exasperates me so. You have to tell him everything, don't you? Strange. Most people grow up at least a little sometime before their twentieth birthday..." She watched as Harry kicked off from the ground and, only narrowly avoiding her year-old Whomping Willow, soared off.

"I thought it best not to tell him how he really feels for Hermione," she added pensively. "The shock might have done him in."

She grinned, somewhat evilly. Then she looked at her watch, swore heavily, and returned to work.

* * *

_Oh damn, and I was planning to have this up before the seventh book was realeased. Just realised I was a bit late... Oh well, never mind. Those who have read the book can see this as AU, or something, and those who haven't read the book yet - that's cool. I haven't either. _

_So yeah, this is just basically another ode to Luna's oddness and her (unbeatable!) straighforwardness. Yes, I am certain that this is not a word. Yes, I know I'm a Luna freak. What can I say? Eccentricity is _so_ in. _

_Oh, and about Alexander Snidget - I haven't been as meticulous about my background research as I could have been. If the truth is that the Head Boy in Harry's first year was in fact shy, short and Slytherin, please forgive me...:)_

_Have a good one!_


End file.
